Mannen'yuki: Endless Snow
by Teh Squee-Chan
Summary: Danny Phantom, guest staring Hitsugaya Toushiro! While fighting Aizen Sosuke, Hitsugaya employs a lost Bakudou, a binding demon spell, in order to save his childhood friend, Hinamori Momo, and Soul Society, transporting Aizen, and himself, to Amity Park.
1. Chapter 1

This is going to be my first real fic! So… It's a Bleach and Danny Phantom crossover of sorts. As for Bleach, it takes place as a sort of parallel to the arrancar arc. It's most definitely after Soul Society, but not after or during the arrancar arc. If you don't know what the arrancar are, that means that there might be potential spoilers, so read at your own risk.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or Danny Phantom. ;;

**Mannen'yuki: Endless Snow**

Prologue:

Pounding footsteps resounded through the eerily empty halls leading toward the fifth division compound, racing desperately to reach their destination in time. Hitsugaya Toushiro had sensed a familiar reiatsu, and foolishly disregarded it until he realized whom it belonged to.

Aizen Sosuke, former fifth division captain, and cowardly traitor, had returned. And what was worse, he could feel the turbulent reiatsu of Hinamori Momo beside him. She had not yet fully recovered from the previous wound her former captain had given her, the emotional scars left by his betrayal might never be fully healed, and the bastard was back to cause her more grief, or worse.

He could see the fifth division office dawning in front of him. He drew Hyourinmaru, his faithful zanpakuto, from its sheath and kicked down the door, ignoring the courtesy of a knock.

Fortunate on his part, for Aizen was in the midst of attacking his childhood friend, and she was blind to it, prey to the illusions cast by his zanpakuto, Kyouka Suigetsu. There was no time for thought, and Hitsugaya would not idly stand by and let Hinamori be injured again, not while he could prevent it.

"Hinamori, move!" shouted the tenth division captain urgently.

She looked up at him, startled. "Shiro-chan?! Aizen-taichou has returned! He's not…"

'_Too slow!' _thought Hitsugaya. She wouldn't move in time. He gritted his teeth, and swore. "I said, MOVE!" he screamed, running and pushing her out of the way, intercepting the wound aimed for her heart. The snow haired boy grimaced in pain as the sword slashed his side open. _At least it isn't fatal,_ he thought grimly.

"Shiro-" Hinamori was about to scold her friend as she picked herself off the floor, when she saw crimson liquid pouring from his side, and a bloodied sword in the hands of her 'Aizen-taichou.' "Shi-"

She was cut off by Aizen's bitter laugh. "Hitsugaya-taichou," he mocked, "it has been too long. I must admit, I didn't think anyone would notice my return."

"What are you doing here?" growled Hitsugaya. "Have you betrayed your other companions as we-" his interrogation was interrupted as Aizen carelessly slashed at him again, and he fought to hold the cry threatening to break his lungs at the sudden movement required to dodge.

"I was merely returning for some paperwork, I didn't expect my fool of a fukutaichou to be sleeping in my room, waiting for me to 'escape Ichimaru's control.'" Replied Aizen casually, thrusting at Hitsugaya's midsection.

Hitsugaya quickly raised Hyourinmaru to block at his neck; the sound of colliding metal filled the air as Hinamori sunk against the wall, a helpless spectator. She wished she had brought Tobiume, but doubted she would have the heart to attack even if she had.

"Impressive, Hitsugaya-taichou," mused Aizen. "You've learned to see past some of my Kyouka Suigetsu, a laudable feat, I commend you. But how quickly can you decipher it?" demanded the traitor, pulling back for another attack.

'_Damn!'_ thought Hitsugaya as he parried Aizen's brutal onslaught. He was holding up well, but he knew it would be short lived. He was losing blood at a rapid pace. The fight would have to end soon. Stalling Aizen in a prolonged block would do no good. The so-called boy genius kicked Aizen in the stomach, catching his opponent off guard. Sliding back, he pondered tying something around his gushing midsection, but dismissed the foolish notion that there was that much time to spare. He pulled Hyourinmaru into an offensive position. _'Fight with me now, my friend,'_ he whispered to the dragon.

"Souten ni Zase! Hyourinmaru!" cried Hitsugaya, employing the shikai release of his Zanpakuto, wisely containing the ice dragon in the compact area, and utilizing the chain at the end of his zanpakuto. The captain launched himself at Aizen, sweeping at his ankles with the chain. Aizen jumped above it, having regained his composure, and the battle continued.

Hinamori Momo watched the fight, still a torrent of emotions. Aizen-taichou had to be under Ichimaru-tai- no not taichou anymore, Ichimaru's control, he had to be. And Shiro-chan was attacking him because he didn't know! Then this fight was pointless! …But Aizen-taichou had attacked first, attacked _her._ She knew the hope which she clung to was null, but she couldn't bring herself to discard the captain she loved for so many years. Her reason for becoming the shinigami, for aiming for the Gotei 13; her reason for being, was an illusion from the start. It was hard to let got, too difficult to have no purpose, and she clung to Aizen still. That was, in part, why, when she saw Hitsugaya bringing his sword down upon a disarmed, defeated Aizen, she screamed. "Shiro-chan, NO! Stop it!" she sobbed.

And he did. Hyourinmaru's perfect arc halted mid-swing, as the white haired captain's eyes widened in shock. "Hina-" His confused expression contorted into one of pain as Kyouka Suigetsu pierced his chest, and he could taste the blood rising in his throat.

The brown eyed girl stared in shock at the sword protruding from Hitsugaya's back. _'Wasn't Aizen-taichou just unarmed? How did he… when did… an illusion. He wasn't unarmed for a second.'_ She paled as she realized her mistake, her ready belief in the mirages of Kyouka Suigetsu, had caused her dear friend to be grievously injured,_twice,_ in a span of less than twenty minutes.

"You are too easily distracted, Hitsugaya-taichou!" scolded Aizen with a sadistic laugh, twisting the hilt of his zanpakuto maliciously, grinning at the scream the younger captain was so visibly struggling to contain. "It takes quite a bit to get any noise from you," taunted Aizen.

Defiant aquamarine eyes glared up at him in response. Hitsugaya knew his last resort had come. He had been planning to use it on Aizen one day if need be, but never did he imagine it would be so soon, and under such dire circumstances. Damn his weakness. He subtly traced his fingers over his arm as that treacherous bastard continued his taunting.

"Your concern for this fool of a girl is to be your downfall," laughed Aizen. "I shall eliminate such uselessness," he said as he turned toward Hinamori, whom was still in shock, before a determined hand gripped his wrist forcefully.

"You will be doing _no_such thing, Aizen!" growled Hitsugaya, holding onto Aizen's arm, which still held the sword embedded in his chest.

"You bark loud enough boy, but there's hardly any life left in y- What_are_ you doing?" Aizen started as the boy began to trace his fingers over the arm he held onto. Aizen tried to jerk his arm free as Hitsugaya continued to write characters on the former captain's arm with his own blood.

"Let go boy!" Aizen struggled to move his arm, causing Kyouka Suigetsu to painfully twist in Hitsugaya. But the boy held fast, and began to chant an incantation. A circle of light enveloped the two, and Aizen looked at the ground under him. The skid-marks from all the boy's landings were woven in an intricate pattern. The boy had been planning to do whatever he was doing now for at least half their fight. He swore to himself, trying to keep his composure.

"Whatever you're planning, Hitsugaya-taichou, will fail. None of the ninety nine Bakudou can harm me." He gave his arm a powerful yank, and managed to pull out his zanpakuto, but the tenth division captain still held fast, and still chanted.

Suddenly, the teal eyed boy released his hold on Aizen's arms, and threw himself at the traitor, locking his arms around his waist.

"Wha-!"

"Bakudou number One Hundred!"roared Hitsugaya. "_Jiboujiki Seishuku_!!!"

The circle surrounding the two opponents flared to life, ensnaring them both, sucking them into its confines.

"What are you doing?!" demanded the chestnut haired man.

"Taking you away from here!"

"Transportation Kidou?! You'll be sucked in as well!"

"So be it," spat the boy, "as long as Soul Society is rid of you!"

In the corner of the room, Hinamori's mind seemed to painfully snap into focus at Hitsugaya's statement. _What is he doing?! What's happening?!_ Her mind screamed._ "So be it…"as long as Soul Society is rid of you." _Was Shiro-chan going to…

"Shiro-chan!!!" wailed Hinamori, unstable tears threatening to spill.

"It's Hitsugaya-taichou," corrected her friend with a grim smile, which it faded momentarily. "Sayonara,"

"Shi-Hitsugaya-taichou…"

The grim smile returned. "Bed wetter Momo."

The rune circle gave another bright flare, and Hinamori was forced to shield her eyes from the blinding light. When she looked again, there was no trace of Aizen, or Hitsugaya.

Hinamori sank to the floor in dismay, ignoring the blood that soaked into her clothes from the floor.

The door burst open beside her, revealing Matsumoto, leading Ukitake-taichou, Unohana-taichou, Isane-fukutaichou, and several other fourth squad members.

"Hinamori-chan!" Matsumoto ran over to the girl, and those behind her rushed in.

"Hinamori-chan!" repeated Matsumoto, shaking the non-responsive girl. "Are you alright?!"

The brown eyed girl started. "Ma-Matsumoto-san! I…" she looked down at the crimson stained floor. "I'm fine."

"But all this blood…" Isane-fukutaichou trailed off.

"It's…not mine." Hinamori swallowed.

"I sensed Hitsugaya-kun's reiatsu, where is he?" questioned Unohana-taichou, trying not to push the distressed girl too much.

Hinamori looked at the pools of blood defiling the room, and finally broke down, sobbing into Matsumoto's gi.

Ukitake, who held a certain fondness for the boy genius, paled considerably. "No…"

Unohana rested a gentle hand on his shoulder with a sad smile. "Isane-san, please escort Hinamori-chan to the relief center for tonight, the rest of you, please assist me in cleaning this mess."

The 'vice-captain' nodded and scooped Hinamori into her arms, and the fourth squad members gave morbid nods.

"Ukitake-taichou, please inform Yamamoto-soutaichou of what has happened here, I will stay and try to discern what has truly happened, since Hinamori-chan seems in no condition to explain."

Ukitake nodded sadly, and shuffled out of the room. As he shut the door, he could hear Matsumoto's muffled sob.

"Taichou…"

Woooo! I'm done with the prologue! XD It turned out longer than I expected, and angstier too. I hate angst so, yet I find myself writing it more than I want to admit.

And for all you who are wondering "Where the hell is Danny and Co.!?" They shall appear next chapter! This is just the prologue

Ah, I DID make up the Bakudou number One Hundred, there are only 99 in the actually series.

So, if any of you find a problem with any spelling or grammar, feel free to tell me, since I know it can kill the flow of the story.

So review my first-ever fic! Pleeease? Maybe I'll bribe you. The first three reviews will get free sketchies of a character of their choice from me!

So review! Tell me if you love it, hate it, don't care, etc.

Oh, I'll also take suggestions for things you would like to see in the story, but I might not necessarily use them.

Ja' Ne!

Squee-chan


	2. Chapter 2

Super-Special-Awesome thanks to all those who reviewed my first chapter! I'm not entirely too motivated a person, so the boosts really helped me to get my butt in gear, so to speak. And even those who didn't review, and are putting up with this anyway, many thanks as well. XD well, on to the story!

Le Disclaimer: I still own not the Danny Phantom, nor the Bleach. It is to weep… XD

Mannen'yuki: Endless Snow

Chapter One:

"Aaaa," Sam Mason sighed wearily, stretching her arms out over her desk. "Are you guys ready for Lancer's test?"

Her two companions, Tucker Foley and Danny Fenton exchanged bemused expressions before turning to their friend. "Test?" they questioned in unison.

"Yes, 'test.' The one on chapter sixteen of Moby Dick? Ring any bells?"

"Oh yeah…" mused Tucker. "I remember! I think I've got most of it down."

Danny stared at her, dumbfounded. "That's today? But I thought it was on Thursday."

"Danny," interrupted Tucker, "it IS Thursday."

"Is it?"

It was Sam's turn to trade a puzzled glance with Tucker. "Yes, it is."

"Aw, man!" cried the teen, dropping his head on his desk with a thud.

"Alright children," their teacher, Mr. Lancer walked into the room as the bell sounded, a stack of papers in his hand, "to your seats."

The response he received was a series of moans and complaints, along with the shuffling of feet moving to their proper place as he began to hand out the tests.

Danny was in the midst of panic when a familiar bluish wisp of air escaped his lips. It wasn't entirely very often he was happy when his Ghost Sense was triggered. This was an exception. His hand shot up in the air within a second.

"Mr. Lancer!"

"Yes, Mr. Fenton?"

"May I go to the bathroom please?"

"Can you wait?"

"No," he answered truthfully. He couldn't wait; it _could_ be a dangerous ghost.

The middle aged man sighed. Darn that boy. "Very well. But make it fast. I want you back before I can say One Hundred Years of Solitude." Smiling at Danny's pained expression, he added, with a detectable note of raillery, "Don't worry my boy, I'll say it nice and slow for you."

"Yes sir!" Danny eagerly shot out of his seat, refraining on commenting on Lancer's subtlety, or lack thereof. He glanced at Sam and Tucker who nodded, and dashed out of the room.

Transportation Bakudou was… unpredictable. Hitsugaya had expected, perhaps somewhat childishly, to somehow just appear somewhere else. As such, he had not considered a transitional phase; he had not anticipated the sensation of free falling that followed, nor the need to retain his grip on his struggling adversary.

If he let go, there was no telling where Aizen could end up. He needed to keep track of the man, which was becoming more difficult with each passing second; his blood loss was beginning to take its heavy toll on his body.

The rushing wind seemed to slow, which most likely meant they were approaching their final destination. The teal eyed captain would have been relieved… had Aizen _not _suddenly kicked him in the chest, painfully breaking free from his grip.

"It seems you still cannot hold on to anything, 'Shiro-chan.'"

Hitsugaya growled, pivoting mid-air to face his adversary. "No you don't! Come finish this fight you coward!"

Aizen chuckled at the boy. "This battle has been over for quite some time. You are too naïve, boy."

"You're not leaving!" Hitsugaya reached forward, grabbing the edge of Aizen's pant leg. He pulled with all his remaining strength, thrusting the man forward through the opening that seemed to materialize before him.

At least he would be in the same dimension then, mused Hitsugaya to himself, which somehow would make finding the madman easy? It dawned upon him what Aizen had meant by naïve. With all the difficulties it took to track the man in a world he had known for far over a century, how could he possibly hope to locate him in a world he had never seen? It mattered little now, regardless, the most important thing for the time being that he was away from the Arrancar, the Hougyoku, Soul Society…and… Hinamori.

With that in mind, the tenth division captain closed his eyes, and let himself fall.

'_Danny sure is taking his sweet time,'_ thought, somewhat bitterly Sam. '_He better not be skipping this test.' _she glowered. She had finished her test early and was staring at the clock when she heard Paulina scream next to her. She was waiting for the shallow girl to cry '_I broke a nail,'_ however, her cry caught much more attention.

"THE GHOST BOY!"

The class turned to look out the window where Paulina pointed, and many gasped in horror.

"What's all this abou- Finnegan's Wake!" cried Mr. Lancer, employing his usual, literary swear-replacement.

Lying before the front steps of Casper High, in a puddle of crimson, was a boy with hair the color of snow, clothed in black and white.

Before Mr. Lancer could open his mouth to comment, his class had already rushed out of the room.

"Do you think…?" Sam asked Tucker as they sprinted down the originally silent halls, feeling dread wash through her, as it so visibly did on her friend.

Tucker made no reply, not trusting himself with words at the moment. They burst out of the front doors of the school, and joined the crowd now gathered at the steps.

"I can't see anything, how about you?" Tucker called to Sam. Both were being shoved to the back of the crowd.

"Nothing."

"God! I can't stand this!"

"So, we're not taking the test?" someone inquired beside Tucker.

"No! Go away Danny! We're trying to see if you're ali… I hate you. I really do." Tucker glared at the azure eyed boy standing beside him with a baffled expression.

"What did I do?"

Sam wasn't sure whether she wanted to attack him with a hug or a fist, so, refraining from either, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "Where were you?"

Danny grinned sheepishly, "Having a conveniently lengthy fight with the box ghost."

"…"

"Wait. Guys," Tucker cleared his throat to get his friend's attention, "if that's not Danny… then… who _is_ it?"

The three managed to get to the front of the gathering to see for themselves this 'ghost boy.'

"I don't think it _is_ the ghost boy." Paulina stated.

"Well, I heard that Danny Phantom kid is really half-human, so, maybe this is his human self?" a remarkable comment of genius came from Dash, as untrue as it was.

"Maybe someone's making a movie!"

"I don't know… it looks pretty real to me."

"Alright people, clear the way," sounded the now commanding voice of Mr. Lancer. He pushed through the crowd of panicking teens, slightly puzzled as to the number of them retching on the school's lawn.

"Just what exactly are you all so worked up about? There is probably nothing…" his words died in his throat upon seeing the object of everyone's attention. His shock and revulsion too violent even to merit any of his censored swears. Paternal instincts taking over, he rushed over to the battered form, lying face down on the concrete, as his students watched in anticipation, murmuring among themselves. Either not quite grasping the situation, or not believing it to be real. To say the wounds were severe would be an understatement, several deep gashes lined the body, and Lancer's attention was drawn to a noticeably deeper slash in the body's side. He felt the taste of bile rising in his own throat at the sight of the figures upper back, where there appeared to be… a… puncture wound. Such a horrible death for anyone… Shaking his head, Lancer delicately turned the body over, and dry heaved. His theory of a puncture wound was confirmed, gaping open on the body's chest. But worse still, the body was that of a child.

'_What kind of sick person could do something like this to someone so young?!'_ the teacher grieved. His battle against the stinging in his eyes was cut short however, in the new silence caused by the mute horror of the students as they realized it was no joke, and that the victim could be no older than they. In the new silence, the teacher's ears picked up the sound of a labored and agonizing breath, and he felt as if his heart stopped. _'Alive…'_

"He's alive!" he shouted. No one moved. "Why hasn't anyone called an ambulance?!"

"…you took our phones before the test, sir." Someone spoke weakly.

"You can't call an ambulance! What if he _is_ the ghost boy?! They could… I don't know, kill him or something?" argued Kwan.

"Yeah, hospitals are terrible!!! I mean, remember the last hospital any of us went to?" voiced Tucker, remembering the 'ghost disease' which had plagued the school before.

"Tucker, you're not helping. He's definitely NOT the 'ghost boy.'" Tucker flinched at the elbow Sam had rammed into his side as well as her harsh whisper.

The majority of the students mumbled in agreement. "What kind of human has white hair at that age anyway? I bet he's a ghost!"

"Maybe we should leave him there. He could be a bad ghost. Maybe the ghost boy saved us from him!"

"There's no way the Phantom would to that to anyone, even a bad guy!"

"Well then what do we do with it?"

"SILENCE!" Mr. Lancer finally bellowed. "If none of you will contact help, then move aside!" carefully scooping the limp figure in his arms, he stood and moved toward the entrance of the school. Noting the group that lingered closest to the building, he yelled, "Foley! Mason! Hold the doors open, now! Fenton, to the clinic! I want a bed cleared and I want supplies out. NOW."

The group rushed to comply, Tucker and Sam at the doors, as Danny raced down the hall, turned the corner, and collided with someone.

"Owww, Danny, why are you running in the halls? You _know_ not to do that. Now I'm going to have to report you," complained Jazz, Danny's sister, as she picked herself off the floor. "Danny? Are you okay? Is it a gho-"

Lifting himself off the floor as well, Danny pushed passed her. "No time Jazz! Listen, I need you to distract the school!"

"What?"

"I don't know, make an announcement or something! Call a tornado drill, just do it please! I have to go!"

Jazz stared after her distressed brother, noting that something was most definitely wrong. "Don't worry baby brother! I'll help you!" turning on her heels, she ran into the principal's office, managing to look as distraught as possible. "What happened to our code red drill? It was scheduled for today! We _need_ that drill! Students need to be prepared if an intruder ever breaks into the school! It's imperative to their welfare! It was supposed to go off over five minutes ago! This school needs a system..." she continued to rant.

Noting the reputation of such an acclaimed student as Jazz, no one would doubt her words. Needless to say, within a matter of seconds, the buzzer was sounded, and the school went into lockdown, leaving the hallways barren.

Danny skidded to a halt before the clinic door, and held back the urge to swear. It was locked. Of course. Because the nurse was always in when she was needed. What was he supposed to do now? … _'Smart Danny, real smart.'_ The boy thought to himself, easily phasing through the door. He unlocked it from the inside, propped it open, and proceeded to scour the room for medical supplies. They would definitely be ready before Lancer came. He wasn't sure who that boy was, but he'd be damned if he let someone die on _his_ watch.

Alright. I think I'll end this chapter here. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm in charge of the potatoes. X3 Cooking with the family is fun

I apologize for taking so long to update, since it's not fair to the few of you who actually read this. I promise I'll keep up with this story, now that my first semester of college is over, I can relax a bit. Thank you so much again to those who reviewed my story, it really helped me to remember this story existed. heh…

Although, I don't think I'll be updating until after New Years, since I'm getting a Wii for Christmas, and I may be occupied for a while. D But! If anyone has any suggestions, I will be glad to consider them, as well as any corrections on grammar, spelling, or sentences that just really suck. XD Sometimes I space out while writing.

**Bribery**:**Because I need stuff to draw.**

To the first (and most likely only) five to review this chapter, I will draw chibi-ish pictures for you, of any Bleach or Danny Phantom character. If there is someone I can't do, I'll let you know, but for the most part, I'll try my best to draw whomever you want. D


	3. Chapter 3

**Mannen'yuki: Endless Snow- Chapter 2**

Well then, it's been quite a while! Understatement of eternity, I know. So, as you may have noticed, I'm pretty bad at keeping up with things. I tend to start and never finish. I'm going to (attempt to) fix that. It will be a slow process, and the writer's block sure won't help, but I'm going to try to start updating more often. D

Again, thank you so much to anyone reading this, and especially to those who reviewed! It gives a figurative face to my audience so I don't feel like I'm writing to a screen. Thank you all so much! D

I'm sure this is hard for you to believe, but I have not gained ownership of Bleach or Danny Phantom since the last chapter. Shock of the century, right? XD

I almost forgot, time for the generic disclaimer!

**I don't own Danny Phantom or Bleach, and am in no way affiliated with either.**

Another note: This story is in no way connected to "Memories of No One," another Bleach and Danny Phantom crossover which I found after I wrote my first chapter. XD They may be similar, but I promise I did not intend that.

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With that said, to the story I go.

"Stop pacing."

"I can't help it! I want to know if the ghost boy is alright!"

"How many times have I told you that's _not_ the Phantom? That kid was… well, his hair was too long, and … his clothes were different."

"Weren't you the one who said he went through a bunch of costume changes all the time?" accused Paulina. She and Dash were not the only anxious ones sitting in the classroom.

"God," groaned Tucker, fidgeting in his seat, "it's been over an hour."

Indeed it had. It had been about an hour and twenty minutes since Mr. Lancer carried the injured boy to the school clinic. It had been about an hour and five minutes since he had forced them all back to the classroom with a glare. And they sat in waiting. Talking about nothing and anything to help them forget or think of something other than the trail of blood they all had to clean earlier.

"Who do you think he is?" Sam asked. She sat on the edge of her desk, idly swinging her feet.

"How should I know?" complained Tucker. "He's probably some ghost or something. I mean, those clothes aren't from anywhere near her, that's for sure. They looked like…"

"Like a ninja!" interrupted Star. Apparently the class had joined in on their conversation.

"Those weren't ninja clothes, they were _samurai_ clothes. Like in the movies. I mean, he had a sword and everything. Ninjas don't use swords like that," Kwan corrected.

From across the room, Valerie joined the conversation. "He could just be another ghost, like Tucker said. Just because he was beat up like that doesn't make him good. He had a _sword_. He could have been here to kill some of us, and we're taking care or him."

"He can't be a bad guy. Danny Phantom beats up bad guys, and there's no way he would do something like that," defended Dash.

"Don't be stupid," Valerie retorted. "Not only 'heroes' fight villains. For all we know, he could have gotten into a fight with one of those other freaks. Or maybe your Phantom has shown his true colors."

"That's a lie," hissed Dash, ever-devout fan boy that he was.

Sam sighed and let the two bicker. She turned to Tucker, who was drawing on his desk with his eraser. "Do you think Danny's parents will be able to help? Wont they just… I don't know, attack the guy for being a ghost?"

"Well, his dad maybe."

"Tucker!"

"Alright, alright!" Tucker held his hands up to calm the girl. Once she settled, he readjusted his glasses, hoping it wouldn't become a habit. "Danny's parents are good people. They're not going to leave someone to die just because he could potentially be a ghost."

"But," she continued. "What if it doesn't work?"

Tucker refused to admit that his thoughts mirrored her own. "Let's just hope it does."

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"Hurry _up_ Dad!" Danny's fingers twitched as he tried to remain calm. Tried, and failed. He sat in the back seat of the family RV, restlessly watching the scenery crawl past.

"Son, it's not like I can run over every car in front of me," he paused and added under his breath, "not with your mother here anyway."

"Jack!"

"I mean, uh, never."

Danny listened to his parents bicker and drummed his fingers on his lap. He should have said no when they offered him a ride back. But they would have wondered how he made it to school before them.

They had certainly been surprised enough when he burst into the lab, babbling about someone who could theoretically, potentially be a ghost. They had been even more skeptical when he asked them if they could help treat the "potential ghost."

Recently, Danny's parents had been working on a way to speed the process of ecto-regeneration. Apparently it was somewhat like cell division, but for ghost… stuff. They wanted to use it to make their ecto-based weapons recharge themselves, but Danny suspected it could work on ghosts as well. It was a long shot, but maybe it could speed the healing process in a ghost. If that kid at school even was a ghost. He certainly didn't feel human, but Danny had yet to feel his ghost sense trigger.

Regardless, he had somehow managed to convince his parents to bring their equipment to school. He knew his mother was hooked when he mentioned that the "ghost" looked younger than he did. Maternal instincts kicked in, and that settled the matter.

But even so, maternal instincts didn't stop lunchtime traffic. And the RV was moving at a snail's pace. Danny groaned and slid further into his seat. Nothing felt worse to him than helpless waiting.

"Honey, maybe we should just," Maddie paused, noting the anxious air about her boy. "I mean, the traffic is moving so slow, and this is important to Danny…"

"You mean…"

"Yes Dear."

"Really?" Jack looked at his wife incredulously, "Are you sure? Because,"

"Jack. Hurry up."

Jack Fenton's mouth pulled into a mischievous grin. He moved his fingers over the buttons on the dashboard of the Fenton RV until he felt the one he wanted- the assault mode. If that didn't clear the road, then he didn't know what else would. Glancing at the cars in front of them he realized he didn't have to worry about that.

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Everything moved in flashes. Flashes of color and noise- all dull and muted. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. His mind seemed to register both the etherized tingle of nothing and bright, searing pain at once. If he were human, he might have wondered if he were dead.

Shapes had come and gone with his consciousness. The only constant was the continuous presence of someone while he lay on what seemed to be a matt or a bed of sorts. Sometimes the presence spoke to him, telling him to "hang in there," but most often it was silent, and appreciated.

For a time there were many noises, many presences, and an odd reiatsu not unlike a hollow's, but without the malice. The familiar presence left his side and again there was nothing. When he was again aware, he felt changed. Something had been done to him while he lay there. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but something new. It felt somewhat akin to the inside Unohana's healing zanpakuto,_ Minazuki_, he could practically feel his flesh knitting itself together. The feeling lasted for a moment, and it was gone. Conflicting pain and numbness continued to plague him while the familiar presence lingered, and he faded again out of consciousness.

Fitful images flittered past his vision. Of soul society, Matsumoto skipping her paperwork, Ukitake and his mound of sugary gifts… all consumed by the scourge of Aizen's will… and…

"Hinamori!" Hitsugaya jolted awake, but barely moved five inches before the numbness gave way to blinding agony. With a groan he fell back onto what he now realized was a bed and closed his eyes at the sudden intake of light.

"The Awakening!" a voice exclaimed, echoing within the small room. The familiar presence appeared again, but it was difficult to focus on it, every limb throbbed, and his chest and side seared. Hitsugaya wanted nothing more than to bolt up and survey his surroundings, to find out who was moving towards him and what the hell happened after… His thoughts were interrupted by another spasm of pain, and he stifled another groan.

"Easy," the voice continued, closer this time, no more than two feet. "Whatever the Fentons gave you probably wore off by now. Stop trying to move, you're safe."

Hitsugaya was reminded of Ukitake. The cool, paternal demeanor was calming somehow. That old fool was probably worried sick… He started. _'Oh God.'_ Ukitake… He had become so much more ill after the loss of his lieutenant. Hitsugaya's own disappearance could have terrible ramifications on the frail man. On so much more than that.

He had to go back- he managed to say, and his throat felt like course gravel. It hurt to speak, but he needed to go back, and he repeated it several times.

"Slow down," the voice interrupted. For some reason it was hard to register the words. He could understand them, but something seemed off. He tried to open his eyes again but the lights were too strong. "I can't understand what you just said."

Hitsugaya frowned. He thought he had articulated himself rather clearly, and he didn't really want to try again. He tried to swallow, but there was no moisture in is throat to do so.

He stiffened when he felt a hand slide under his neck and vainly tried to struggle away. Someone arced his head back and he felt something touch his dry lips. He finally opened his eyes, squinting, to see his 'attacker.'

A middle-aged man supported his neck and held a cup of water to his mouth. Gratefully, Hitsugaya drank. When he stopped, the man lay him back down, and put the cup aside.

It was then that Hitsugaya was able to survey his surroundings. He was in a small room, sparsely decorated, which reminded him of the Kurosaki clinic- it probably _was_ a clinic. Mild panic surged through him- he didn't have _time_ to be in a clinic! That madman was running rampant in his newfound freedom from obstacles, he knew. He could gather followers, grow stronger, come back more formidable than before, find a way back to… The "child prodigy" shut his eyes tightly. He knew he was exaggerating the situation, and hyperventilation would not bring him closer to his goal. He took a breath to steady himself, and opened his eyes again.

The man in the room now stared at him, more intensely than he had before. Whatever had reminded him of Ukitake was gone, gave way to a more accusing gaze. The man asked for his name, but again, it sounded odd. However, he didn't seem to mean harm, so Hitsugaya, after one failed attempt due to his sore throat, answered.

"My name is Hitsugaya Toushiro. Who are you, and where is this place?" Well. That came out much more raspy than the boy had intended. The man gave him a look half between pity and exasperation.

"Kid, do you speak any English?"

Hitsugaya blinked. English? Did he look like an uneducated fool? Of course he spoke- _'Oh,'_ he realized. He had been speaking Japanese. Apparently, his caretaker did not. It was no wonder everything had sounded so strange to him. He understood English well, since it was required of him, and he took pride in learning quickly. That did not mean, however, that he was used to hearing the language spoken to him. He wondered briefly if he could even speak it anymore.

With great difficulty, he forced himself into a sitting position, waving off the man as he tried to either help him or make him lie down, he wasn't sure. He paused, and looked the man in the eyes.

"My name," he repeated, this time in the man's own language, "is Hitsugaya Toushiro."

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_A.N._

I could have written more, I'm sure, but this seemed such a lovely place to cut you all off for another year of waiting. XDDDD

I'll try to keep up! I shall! Please message me every now and then and nag me if I take too long. Every time someone reviews/messages/nags me, I write at least 100 words or so before I lose motivation. So if everyone nags me, I'll be bound to update more. XD

**More Bribery**

XDDD Because I like drawing for you all.

To the first three people who review, I shall bestow a cute "SD" chibi.

To the next few, I shall give some sketches. I won't color them or ink them, but hey, free art is free art. XD

So feel free to make requests, preferably from Bleach. Or Danny Phantom. Or someone random who isn't too hard to draw. D


	4. Chapter 4

Aren't I just so very cruel to you all? I have such a bad habit of leaving you hanging for months and months. I'm so sorry. I don't know how you can all be so patient with me, but I appreciate it ever so much. I won't go into a spiel about how grateful I feel, but I read every single review, and I usually respond to each- and you all make me so very happy, criticism and all. =D

Well, I've really been at a loss for how to continue this part of the story. I know where I want it to go about 3-5 chapters from now, but the stuff in the middle is all… well, any suggestions will be considered, though not necessarily used. =D

*ahem*

**Disclaimer:** yeah… My name isn't Kubo Tite; therefore I do not own Bleach. I'm not Butch Hartman; therefore I don't own Danny Phantom either. So sorry, I know you all thought I did. XD

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**Mannen'yuki: Endless Snow- Chapter 3  
**

The incessant babble that pervaded the room ended the instant the door handle turned. Mr. Lancer did not miss the lingering air of anticipation as he walked into the room of expectant students and moved to his desk. He laughed to himself at the irony of the situation. Only when he _wasn't_ teaching did the eyes of his pupils follow him so intently.

He leaned against the desk, relishing the anxious faces. "Well," he said. The entire class leaned forward. "You can have your cell phones back."

The confused expressions lasted but a moment before Dash shot up, and his indignant peers followed suit.

"What the heck? We've been waiting here for more than two hours and you give us our cell phones? We want to know what the heck happened! Who is that kid! And…" here he trailed off a bit squeamishly.

"Did it die or what?" Valerie finished for him, unabashed… and unconcerned.

Lancer noted the lack of empathy in his student with sadness. To be so young and care so little for life… "_He_," Lancer corrected, "is… stable. And before you ask Paulina, _no_ he is not the ghost boy. Nor, do I suspect, a ghost at all."

From the corner of the room, Danny, Sam, and Tucker stared more intently than the rest of the class. Danny had seemed convinced that the boy was at least partially ghost.

Danny's thoughts raced, a feeling of dread creeping into his stomach. '_If Lancer knows that he isn't a ghost, does that mean that whatever Mom and Dad brought didn't work?_'

Catching her friend's distress, Sam questioned, "But if he's not a ghost, then how…?"

"I haven't asked him. As you can imagine, he's not in the greatest condition for conversation. But he is insisting that we under no circumstances send him to a hospital."

"But that's crazy!" Tucker shouted. "He was messed up! That's not something you can just put on a band-aid for!"

"Mr. Foley, I am well aware the severity of the situation." The look Lancer sent Tucker silenced the boy. "However, at present I…" He sighed. "I'm not sure how to handle the situation. He seems to be determined to leave, and I've promised _not_ to send him to the hospital in return for the promise of his staying in bed."

"Wait, wait, wait. He wants to _walk_? After whatever the heck just attacked him?"

"Yes. And he was very difficult to restrain. We're not in 'lockdown' anymore, but since he's asleep again, I will allow you, in groups of no more than _three_ at a time, to see him, since I know you'll all just rush there after school together at once otherwise."

An anxious buzz of conversation filled the room.

"Listen to me!" Though the teacher did not shout, his voice was more effective than ever before. "You are not to speak of this to _anyone._ Not your parents, not your 'friends,' not your pets. No one outside of this classroom, do you understand? I don't know who attacked this boy, and I don't want any more information circulating until I know _exactly_ how to handle the situation. Is that clear?"

He did not move until a stiff nod was forced from every member of the room.

"Alright then," said Lancer as he seated himself behind his desk. "The chances of this happening again are about as slim as the odds of all of you reading and comprehending the entirety of Finnegan's Wake." He paused for dramatic effect. "For today _only_… you can put all your books away, class is over early."

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If Aizen were to name the things he detested, inconvenience would be among the first. With a mild annoyance, he observed his surroundings. Around him were green stairs, green windows, green wisps of something not entirely unlike smoke… and surprisingly, hideous purple doors.

Fantastic.

Gritting his teeth, he seated himself, unperturbed by the floating staircase, and began to tend his wounds. Though he was loath to admit it, that boy had managed to hit him. Fortunately, he would never receive the satisfaction of knowing. Aizen would by no means assume his opponent dead, such logic would be foolish, but he knew that _if_ he somehow managed to survive, the healing process would not be a short one. Before it finished, Aizen needed to assess his surroundings, and find a way to return to Las Noches. His plans were still being put in motion, and while he tarried, his Espada were no doubt growing restless. Who knew what that fool Grimmjaw would do in his absence?

Now there was the matter of how to get back. Despite the unaesthetic décor that surrounded him, Aizen Sosuke smiled. If there was one virtue malefactor possessed, it was patience.

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"I can't see you oaf, move over!" Valerie Gray hissed, pushing her way to the small window in the clinic door.

"Wait your turn woman, I'm trying to see."

"You've seen long enough, now move!"

Dash turned to his impatient classmate. "We're not allowed inside, so just let me see, darn it."

"You're done looking, now move over."

Valerie stomped on his foot, causing Dash to yelp and shy away from the door. "Crazy bi-"

"If you finish that word I swear I'll skin you alive."

The football player grumbled in reluctant submission, letting the domineering woman take her place in front of the window. "I'm telling you he's not a ghost."

"How do you know?" Valerie balanced on her tiptoes, sparing less than half of her attention to Dash.

"Because… He bled. Ghosts don't bleed."

Valerie snorted.

"You know, staring at him isn't gonna make him wake up faster. Why don't we just go back? It's Fenterd's turn anyway."

"He had a sword, Dash. It's not in there. I wonder what Lancer did with it? Don't you think he's trying a bit _too_ hard for that thing?"

"He's not a _thing_, he's a kid. Come on, look at his face," Dash said, nudging Valerie over so he could see as well.

The ghost huntress scoffed. "Looks like it hurts," she sneered with a gleeful sense of schadenfreude.

"He could die!" Dash whispered angrily.

Valerie paused, struck by his words. It was odd to see a Dash that wasn't assaulting Danny. But here he was, acting like _she_ was the bully. Ghosts were tricky; this could be just a new trick to get closer to humans- to be accepted into their community. Then it would betray them. All ghosts were traitors. None could be trusted, and Valerie wasn't about to let her guard down because it had a sad little face.

The man who gave Valerie her weapons warned her about befriending ghosts like Danny Phantom. "Then let it."

"Gray, I am sick of you!" Dash snarled, finally losing his patience. He grabbed the girl by her collar, raising her several inches off the ground.

"Hey!" a new voice interrupted, "put her down! You're picking on girls now Dash?"

"Fenton."

"Baxter." Danny glared at the taller boy. "I knew you were a bully, but this?"

"Me?" Dash asked indignantly. "She's the one-"

Valerie smirked. "Danny, I was just talking about that poor gh- boy in there and he got mad at me for not letting him look!"

"What? No way!" Dash let Valerie go, and she landed smoothly on her feet. "Gray, I swear, I'm watching you."

"So you're a bully _and_ a stalker now, Dash?" The Goth girl asked, walking up with the techno geek and standing next to Fenton.

Dash stared at Valerie's receding form as she walked back to the classroom. "I don't need to explain it to you losers," he grumbled. "I won't pick on you this time Fenton, but tomorrow you're in for it."

Danny, Sam, and Tucker watched Dash stalk away with a mixture of suspicion and disbelief.

"That was weird," Tucker said before the others.

"…Yeah, no kidding. He looked seriously pissed." Sam shifted on her feet and turned to the clinic door. "So Danny, are you going to let us in or what?"

"What?" the boy asked, incredulous.

"You know, phase through the door, unlock it, let us in? You've done it tons of times," Tucker said.

"But he's, I mean, Lancer said not to… He's sleeping."

"We're not going to wake him up, just… check on him. You know, to… see if the stuff your parents gave him helped any."

"If it _did_ help," Tucker asked, "does that mean he's a ghost?"

"I don't know," confessed Danny.

"Well then, shouldn't we _check_ on him?"

"Sam, I don't think- whoa!" Danny had to bite back a yell as Sam pushed him into the wall. Instinctively, to avoid impact, the boy phased through it and landed on the floor with a solid thump.

"See, you're already in now, so let us in too." Sam demanded.

Danny sighed, not failing to notice the high-five Tucker and Sam exchanged. "Fine," he muttered, reluctantly unlocking the door.

The group made their way to the sleeping boy, gathering around his bedside.

"He needs a haircut," Sam mused.

Tucker snorted, "Sam!"

Danny looked silently at the sleeping form and wondered if he really was a ghost. Danny's ghost sense hadn't gone off, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the boy wasn't simply a normal person. Maybe he was a 'halfa' like Danny?

"Tucker, what are you doing? Don't get _closer_ to him!" Danny heard Sam whisper.

"Guys, he's talking." Tucker was a bit too interested, unable to contain his curiosity.

"What?"

"Listen!"

The three edged to the sleeping boy in tense silence, leaning closer to catch his murmurs.

"I don't think he's speaking English," concluded Tucker after a second, though none of them moved.

"Thank you patron saint of the obvious," Sam said, rolling her eyes.

"What language do you think it is?" asked Danny.

"I don't know, maybe-"

"Shhh!" Sam put a finger to her mouth. "He doesn't look too happy."

Taking another look at the boy, Danny had to agree. His brow was furrowed, his neck strained, and he squirmed under the sheets in a cold sweat.

"What's an 'Eyesen'?" whispered Sam.

"Beats me. What's 'Heoh-rin-mahrue'?"

"I don't know guys, but let's hurry up and go before Lanc- Oww!" Danny attempted to stifle his yell, but stubbing your toe tends to provoke a verbal reaction.

In their haste to silence Danny, Tucker and Sam both tried to cover his mouth, which after a minor struggle, led to Danny being unceremoniously pushed into the occupied bed.

"Oh, crap." Sam froze. The boy's eyes snapped open and within seconds he had Danny's neck in his grip.

"Danny!" Tucker moved to help his friend, but it was unnecessary. The boy's wounds seemed to catch up with him, and he doubled over with a hiss, letting Danny go.

"Hey," Danny prodded, his voice more unstable than he cared to admit. "Are you…?"

With labored breathing, the boy managed to hold up a hand. "N… er… Who are you?"

So he spoke English after all. "My name's Danny. Sorry I... it was an accident. We were just coming in to check on you." He answered, rubbing his neck.

"Ugh," moaned the boy, falling back onto his pillow. He muttered something under his breath followed by that 'eyesen' word. Danny didn't understand it, but it certainly _sounded_ profane.

"You just tried to strangle my friend, at least apologize!" Sam remarked, incensed.

The white haired boy blinked, only now registering Sam's presence. And he didn't seem too happy about it. "He fell on me."

"That's no excuse, you could have killed him!"

He laughed, and the sound was painful to the ear. "Forgive me," he gestured to his blood covered bandages, "if I'm not quite as trusting as you would have me."

"So what happened?" queried Tucker. He ignored the horrified look Danny shot him at his bluntness.

"I was stabbed." A shrug.

"Yeah, _that_ was hard to figure out," Sam interrupted. "By what?"

He didn't answer, and the room was silent aside from the sound of his breathing. "I'm really… not… in the mood for an interrogation," he finally replied. "…You're worse than Kurosaki."

"What?"

"Never mind."

Though the three questioned the boy for several minutes, they received elusive and entirely unhelpful responses. The school bell rang, signifying the end of school and the mini-session. Finally, Tucker asked, "Well, if you wont tell us anything, at least tell us your name?"

"You have yet to tell me yours."

"…Tucker. Tucker Foley. And this is Sam Mason. And that's Danny Fenton."

Teal eyes peered at Danny. "Fenton? Then you were the one who…" he trailed off, seeming to reflect on something.

"Oh." Danny realized what he must have been thinking. "Technically, that was my parents."

"Hitsugaya Toshiro."

"Hm?"

"My name. You asked."

"Oh."

"So…" Tucker began. The door slamming open silenced whatever statement he might have made.

"Fenton, Mason, Foley! _Crime and Punishment__, _I don't know how you got in here, but you're in for…" He stopped at the tired wave Hitsugaya directed at him. "You woke. Him. Up. After I specifically instructed"

"It's alright Lancer," Hitsugaya defended, and the three sighed in obvious relief.

The man huffed, looking at his students. "School's over kids. I suggest you vacate the premises before I make you."

Danny, Sam, and Tucker nodded, astonished at the lack of detention. They turned to leave before he changed his mind." Wait." Too late.

"Yeah?" asked Sam, turning back to the teacher. _Please no detention, please no detention._

"I've decided you're going to help me after all."

"Not detention!" cried Danny. "If I get any more, my parents are gonna kill me!"

"No, not detention," Lancer said. "You're going to help me move this boy into my car."

"What?" Danny, Tucker, Sam, and Hitsugaya asked in unison.

"My car. He can't stay here overnight."

"But,"

"Move?" choked Hitsugaya. He seemed none too pleased with the idea. "I think I can manage on my…" He tried to lift himself out of bed, but grimaced.

"While you're 'managing on your own,' you're coming with me. I may not have the best accommodations, but if you don't want me to send you to a hospital, I suggest you do as I say." He turned to Danny. "Fenton, you go home and get more of whatever it is your parents brought in earlier. I don't know what it is, but it seemed to help. Mason, Foley, you're with me. And you," he ordered Hitsugaya, "are going to stop complaining."

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A.N. Wow, this story is progressing much more slowly than I had anticipated. Sorry guys. It may take a good few chapters before I get into any real plot here. D=

I'm not going to promise to update faster, because I don't know what will happen. I'm having some really tough family issues to deal with on top of my schoolwork, But I can tell you that somehow you all have rekindled my desire to work on this story, so I'll try to use my spare time to work on it. =D

I need to wean myself off of adverbs. They make my writing sound so... ugh. But I can't seem to think of strong enough verbs. Sorry guys, but for now you will have to suffer through the bane of the English language- overused adverbs.

**Semi-Bribe**

Since I'm busy, I can't give out super-nice pictures like I did last time, because each one took about a week. XDDD But I'll still draw some sketches to the first 3 reviewers. =D As always, if it's not a DP or Bleach character, I'll need some references.

Thanks for your patience guys, I really, truly appreciate it.


	5. Chapter 5

Oh my god, a relatively recent update! Can you believe it? I can't. XDD I suppose I felt inspired in bits. It's a bit disorganized because of that, but hey, it's an update. XD It's a bit more serious than I like to stay, but I'll try to lighten up a bit in the next chapter or so. I can't say for sure though. XD

Thank you reviewers! =D Your persistence has paid off- I'm updating faster! XD I know it's a LOT shorter than usual, but... meh, no excuse this time. I just wanted to put it up~ Who knows, maybe I'll get to doing one every month! –gasp-

Obligatory Disclaimer: …The likelihood that I own this is the same as the likelihood that I am in fact Adam West. Or Dan Green.

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It occurred to Hitsugaya that Mr. Lancer was a terrible driver.

The wounded boy let out another hiss as the car turned sharply around another corner with a sputter and a screech. A terrible driver coupled with a terrible car.

It also occurred to Hitsugaya that he would much rather fight Aizen than stay in the metallic death trap a second longer. The car went over another bump, and the young captain grimaced, clutching Aizen's parting gift in pain. Alright, maybe the car ride wasn't _that_ bad, but it was still higher up on his list than Matsumoto shirking paperwork.

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"Ukitake Juushirou, if within the next ten seconds you have not consumed that entire cup of medicine-"

"I know Retsu, I know," the sickly man responded.

It depressed Unohana Retsu to see the despondency in her companion's eyes. As a healer, she knew it wasn't something to be so worried over, but as a friend… Not even Shinsui had been able to rouse any cheer from the captain.

Rangiku seemed to hold the healthiest response to Hitsugaya Toshirou's sacrifice. She grieved, yes, but she kept herself busy, making sure to regularly visit Hinamori-chan. Hinamori cried- far too much. But that was her way, and for the first time since Aizen's staged death, she was managing her grief. The other captains seemed to be affected, but they pushed onward with their work, knowing what needed to be done, and what the child prodigy would have wanted.

But Juushirou… His response was the worst, in Unohana's eyes.

He did not weep, nor did he manage to keep himself busy. His health was deteriorating far more than she liked to admit. Ukitake had just lost interest in taking care of himself. Unohana kept him under constant watch in the 4th division. Isane reported he slept fitfully, often calling for his former lieutenant or Toushiro. He tried to do paperwork, but more often than not he stared blankly at the papers longer than he actually did anything with them.

The only reaction she had seen from him thus far was so heart wrenching that she wished to whatever god existed beyond Soul Society that she hadn't. One night, amidst the groans of other patients, she peered into Ukitake's room. He sat in the pale moonlight, its glow making him look more frail and sickly than the daylight ever could. He stared forlornly at his hands in mute silence, hunched over some treasure he held. Between his fingers, the elder twirled a small, handmade, and lovingly wrapped watermelon candy.

He said nothing.

More than the sound of tears, the density of Ukitake's silence washed over her in a powerful wave of crushing grief. Though she walked away, the image of her suffering friend flitted through her mind. Like the images of dying soldiers tormented a warrior, it lingered before her eyes like a wisp of smoke: Ukitake, broken, with dry eyes. It wasn't fair.

Unohana wept.

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Four days had passed since the fight with Aizen. For the first two, Hitsugaya Taichou resided in the confines of an old, but comfortable bed. In the mornings, the bald not-Ukitake man, Mr. Lancer, brought him something called oatmeal, sat with the boy until he consumed _all_ of it, and bid him farewell before he left for work.

Hitsugaya spent the time until lunch drifting in an etherized state of wake and dreams. Whatever that Fenton kid brought, though he hated to leave his care in the hands of anyone, especially strangers, managed to stabilize his reiatsu. It may have increased it even, and Hitsugaya found his wounds healing themselves far faster than they ever could unassisted- though not as quickly as Unohana taichou's slowest work.

At noon, Lancer would drop by, force him to eat again, and rush back to work. Hitsugaya dreamed. Lancer returned and kept him company while grading papers. On day two, he let Hitsugaya help- he was astounded to find the boy surprisingly proficient in English, despite it being his second language, and delighted to have a helping hand check out grammatical errors. Again Lancer had forced Hitsugaya to eat, and the boy protested the attention. He didn't like living off another, and Mr. Lancer, though he lived alone, did not possess the greatest cooking ability. Though Hitsugaya suspected it may have been because the teacher never prepared "healthy" meals like soup before, especially not for anyone else.

Before Hitsugaya got cabin fever, Lancer helped him out of bed- it was still a grueling and painful process for the boy. Lancer helped him to at least walk around the house, gave him a toothbrush, and stood somewhat awkwardly outside the bathroom door while Hitsugaya bathed, he couldn't stand long enough for a shower, and donned the pair of lose pajamas Lancer randomly showed up with after his first day.

Sleep at night was fitful. Often Hitsugaya found himself in a tangle of sheets, once on the floor. Humiliatingly, it was Lancer who lifted him back onto the bed- Hitsugaya had been too shaken by the hellish nightmare of coming back to a Soul Society that suffered the same fate as Central 46 to raise himself from the floor. Lancer silently exited the room back to the living-room couch that had become his bed, and Hitsugaya for the first time wept, though he could not tell if it was out of sorrow or shame.

On day three, Lancer piled the unused side of the bed with books. He had a staggering collection for such a small abode, and Hitsugaya wondered where he kept them. Piles of aged novels and anthologies lay beside Hitsugaya, and he read diligently. By the time Lancer returned for lunch, he had finished an entire Shakespeare anthology and Melville's Moby Dick- Lancer's jaw had dropped. By the time he returned after school, the boy had moved past Chaucer's Canterbury Tales and Dante's Inferno. Surprise, surprise.

On day four, tired of sitting still, Hitsugaya ran away… or at least attempted to. Though he could now walk around the house with little incident, Lancer caught him scouring the house for Hyourinmaru and his Shihakushou. Needless to say, the man was less than pleased, and decided he needed to keep an eye on Hitsugaya.

Thus, on day five, the young captain found himself adjusting some ill-fitting clothes and an oversized jacket, shuffling along with a scowl in battered converse sneakers that somehow fit him. Going through High School with Kurosaki was bad enough, and now he was going to have to do it again.

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Time was not well defined in this world of sickly green mist. Hours, days, or even weeks might have passed, and Aizen would hardly have been able to tell the difference. From what little he had been keeping track, four to five days seemed an accurate assumption.

Day one, he wandered. Day two, he opened a purple door. Day three, he killed a floating apparition. Earlier today or perhaps yesterday he decided to try conversing with the apparitions instead of killing them, though the latter was much more satisfying.

So this decaying hellhole of green was called "The Ghost Zone." As uncreative and droll as the damned purple doors that defined it. And within this "ghost zone" lay a prison that contained many powerful beings in one location.

Though loath to interact with such wretches, Aizen directed himself toward the ghostly prison. The foolish boy had merely brought him to a new world, his abilities sill held the same potential for destruction.

Let it rain Armageddon.

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A.N. Dun dun duuuun! WOW, I finished another chapter. Well, because I have yet to finish the sketches for people LAST chapter, I'm going to have to hold off on the bribes this time. I'm also guilty of tackling this beast of an Ishida x Orihime picture I just finished drawing- I want to color it now, and that could take a while. XDDD

ANYWAY, thank you for all your support (etc, Oscar speech, etc… XD)! You guys really keep me going with this story, you know I would have stopped long ago without you. =3 Thanks for the motivation!

If you have any ideas for Shiro-chan's first day of school, go ahead and let me know! =D

But a warning in advance: this fic isn't going to be about Hitsugaya's adventures in school. While I may include a few chapters in school, they will be primarily for character development. So when I finally get along with my plot, there probably won't be too much school. XDDD

Sorry for moving along so slowly with this fic, and thanks for bearing with me! =3


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